"Fuck," I snap. "That's what we thought as well." Rushing out of the office, I explain, "Last week, the Albanians popped up in San Diego. Marco kept an eye on their movements. I'll handle it with my men."
My friend gives me an incredulous look. "You want me to stay here and miss out on the action. Have you lost your fucking mind?"
"Right," I chuckle. "My mistake."
Stepping out of the elevator, Viktor asks, "What's their last
known position?"
"Irvine. They're an hour away," Marco replies.
"Who do you have tracking them?" I ask.
"John and Andy."
I nod. "Make sure they don't lose sight of the fuckers." Before I climb into the G-Wagon, I ask, "Where are the rest of the men meeting us?"
"The warehouse in Long Beach."
Viktor gets into the G-Wagon with me, while Marco
follows us in an SUV.
"At least I'll get to kill someone today, seeing as you talked your way out of dying," Viktor jokes while reaching behind our seats for the armored vests we keep there.
He puts his on and waits for me to stop at a red light, then hands me the other one. I quickly shrug out of my jacket and toss it at my friend. I've just pulled the armored vest over my head when the light turns green. Viktor takes the steering wheel, giving me time to fasten the straps at my sides.
When we reach Long Beach, we only stop to grab the stash of weapons from the secret compartment at the back of the G- Wagon, then head out to meet the Albanians.
As always, Viktor checks the clips of every gun before he cracks the muscles in his neck, his right knee jumping with excitement.
"Thanks for coming with," I murmur.